Rebirth: A Fool's Game
by iheartcrona123
Summary: When a murder is committed in the heart of Gotham city, Batman and Robin decide to involve Young Justice in the investigation. However, matters become much more complicated than they previously seemed, and eventually an all out war breaks out between the government and the ever mysterious Witches.
1. Chapter 1: A New Kind of Crime

At six o' clock, night time had already set upon Gotham City. By now, most of the populace was either inside their homes or foolishly out on the streets, unaware of the criminals stalking the evening. On a lone street, away from the skyline of the city, a man sat on the stairs leading up to a house, smoking a cigarette. The glowing spark burned slowly, illuminating the dark. A lone lamp post flickered in and out, barely managing to turn itself on. The man buttoned his trench coat as a cold wind descended upon him. The stars above shined brilliantly despite the pollution that plagued Gotham. Most of the time they were hard to spot, but in a neighborhood as dark as this, they were clear as day to see.

 _BEEP!_

 _BEEP!_

 _BEEP!_

The man dug into the deepest parts of his jacket pockets, and after a few attempts was able to grab and glance at his cellphone. He had received a text message.

 _"Did you do it?"_ it read, the glare of the cell phone light irritating the man's eyes. His fingers fumbled against the keyboard, trying to craft a response.

" _Yeah,"_ he replied, " _Everything's done."_

He looked down, noticing a splash of blood covered his shoes and the surrounding pavement. The smoke from his cigarette floated above, away from his face, into the air. He stared at the dirtied shoes. The pavement dripping in blood. The lamp post flickering in and out.

 _BEEP!_

Another message. He glanced down once more.

 _"Are you sure, Mifune?"_

A moment passed, a second of hesitation before the final question arrived.

" _Are they all dead?"_

Mifune stuffed his phone into his pocket and stood up. He adjusted his jacket, and rubbed the blood off from his shoes onto the cold cement of the stairway. Slowly at first, he walked down the steps and onto the side walk. He walked and walked, further on into the inner workings of the city, until he reached a local diner. By now, the moon was already high in the sky, staring at Gotham. Through a window, he could see that in the diner sat a woman with ebony hair and piercing blue eyes. Her skin was pale and shined against the bright lights of the diner. She kept her eyes on her cellphone. Mifune walked inside. A waitress greeted him, but he waved her off.

"Sorry, ma'am," he began, "I'm meeting someone."

"No worries!" the waitress replied, a frozen smile cast upon her face. Mifune sat in front of the woman. Her eyes shifted from her phone.

"So everything is in order?" she started, a look of boredom apparent across her face.

"Yeah," he muttered, the cigarette rolling along the edge of his mouth, "They're all..." Mifune gave a quick look towards the waitress. It would be a great nuisance if she were to hear their conversation...

"Arachne," Mifune started again, "Do you mind if we talk about this on the way back? It'd be pretty foolish to discuss these matters in public..."

"Of course," Arachne agreed, "How idiotic of me. Let's go."

And with that, the pair stepped out of the diner and into the brisk evening air.

Robin had been on the scene of many murder cases with his partner, Batman, but he had never seen one as gruesome as this. The pair stood in the apartment of a family of four, and the two parents were brutally murdered. The father was pinned to a bed, with nearly ten swords sticking out of him. Robin blinked in horror.

"He's practically a pin cushion now," he exclaimed. Batman gave him a scolding glare. Robin raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," he muttered in annoyance. Batman walked up to the body of the mother, who was pinned to a wall. Like the father, swords were sticking out of her, but above her were words that read, in blood: _Thou shalt not kill..._ Below her, on the wooden floor, seemed to be a continuation of the inscription, as it read: _...One of our own._

"Thou shalt not kill one of our own," Batman said aloud. He turned to an open door. The door hung out lazily, as if it was forced open from its hinges. Robin began to inspect the rest of the house.

"We need to find the kids, right?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer. Swiftly, he ran down a staircase and found another door, but this time it was partially covered with a chest. Robin stepped forward, moved the chest, and slowly opened the door. Looking inside, all he found was a spice cabinet and a few tools. He frowned. He walked down another hallway, checking each room until he eventually found what he assumed was a children's bedroom. The lights were off, but moonlight was seeping through a curtain, illuminating a bunk bed. Two children were sleeping, and it was evident they were alive and uninjured.

 _Why would they kill the parents, but not the kids?_ Robin thought to himself, _If the mafia was trying to send a message, it would make sense to kill the whole family. Not that not killing them is a bad thing, but it is a little weird, I'll admit that._

Quietly, he closed the door, and radioed Batman.

"Batman, the kids are fast asleep."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Are the police on their way?"

"Yes. Gordon will be taking up the case for now. I've already gotten all the samples I need. It's time to go."

Robin placed the radio in his belt pocket, and walked out the front door. By then, Batman was already waiting.

"How'd you guess I'd walk out the front door and not the window?" Robin asked, a smirk on his face.

"You're predictable," Batman replied. Robin frowned as the Batmobile pulled up into the street. The pair hopped into the Batmobile and sped off towards Wayne Manor. Robin rested his head on the plush leather seat of the car, looking out towards the Gotham skyline that lay ahead. His thoughts were centered on the two children and the crime that was just investigated. Just who murdered those parents? And why?

"You're still thinking about it," Batman remarked, making a turn at a fork in the road. Robin shifted uncomfortably.

"How'd you guess?"

"You seem tense."

An awkward silence spread through the air. Batman waited, expecting some sort of answer to a question he never asked. Robin sighed.

"How much longer 'till we're at the cave?" he asked, a bit of annoyance in his voice. Batman made another turn.

"Four minutes," he replied. Robin blinked, coming to a sense of realization.

"Bruce," he started, "I've always wondered this, but how come no one realizes that when we drive back to the cave that we're basically driving back to Wayne Manor?"

Batman was silent for a moment.

"It's because I drive very fast."

Robin glared at Batman.

"That is one of the worst things I have heard in my life. You mean to tell me that we've risked our identities just by driving in this car?"

"Dick, I appreciate your input, but I am going to respectfully ignore it."

Robin crossed his arms. He should have known better than to try talking to the personification of a wall.

Connor was busy trying to flip through television channels when M'Gann nearly set fire to what was supposed to be their dinner. Another click, and he could already hear the distressed Martian lamenting about her nearly perfect Cajun chicken.

"Oh no," she cried, telekinetically placing the flaming pots in a water filled sink, "I could've sworn that the recipe called for the stove to be placed on high!"

"Why not I just order food?" Connor remarked, clicking to find another boring news channel. M'Gann raised an eyebrow.

"Not to be mean, Connor, but I don't think we can just have a pizza guy come knocking on the door. This is a top secret place, after all."

Connor remained silent, trying to think of a solution. M'Gann gave a small gasp.

"Oh, I'm really sorry!" she exclaimed, "That came out way ruder than I expected!"

"It's fine," Connor turned, "You know, you don't have to apologize for everything. It gets a little annoying after a while."

"Oh, sorr-," M'Gann stuttered, but then replied, "I mean, alright. Well, I can microwave something. Or I can try a baked chicken, or even-"

"Why not we go out?" Connor asked, placing the remote on the coffee table as he stood up. M'Gann blushed, her rosy cheeks contrasting her alien green skin.

"Go out?" she said aloud, as if to test if her hearing was functioning correctly. Connor remained stoic.

"Yeah," he said, "Go out. Like, to eat at a restaurant. I've never been to one."

M'Gann smiled nervously.

"Oh, alright," she began, "I thought you meant...Well, never mind! Of course we can go to a restaurant. I just have to, um, change."

"What's wrong with what you're wearing?"

M'Gann pointed to her apron and grease stained shirt.

"Kitchen issues," she laughed as she dashed to her room. Connor stood alone in the living room. He glanced to each of his sides, then sat back on the couch. It had been hard getting used to a "normal" life outside of the test tube he was created in. It had barely been six months since he had joined Young Justice, and he still had trouble adjusting to the regular conversations and mannerisms as his team mates. Not that he necessarily cared about that, considering that he tried his best to avoid being a team player and conforming to his partners ideals and views. For him, he was his own person, albeit a highly disagreeable one.

"All ready!" M'Gann announced, a look of accomplishment on her face. Her skin had transformed from an unsettling green into a light shade of peach. Her freckles shone across her skin, and her bright pink skirt and top only stood to match the all American look she was going for. Resting on her shoulders was a pale pink knit jacket, and she held her cell phone in her hand. Connor's eyes lazily examined her.

"Why're you all dressed up?" he questioned, confused by her concern in fashion sense. M'Gann flushed red.

"Well," she started, scratching her bright orange hair, "I just kinda wanted to appear normal is all. I didn't exactly want anyone guessing I was a, well, a Martian."

"But you changed you're skin color."

"Yeah, but I just wanted to be extra safe. Just in case, you know."

She laughed awkwardly. Connor shrugged.

"So," he began, "Where do you wanna go?"

M'Gann thought for a moment, then a stroke of genius came upon her.

"Hello, Megan!" she exclaimed, patting the top of her head, "You've never had Italian food, have you? We can go to Lorenzo's! It's just down the street."

Connor gave a sigh that meant he agreed with the decision. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Sure," he said, "I guess that's fine."

M'Gann smiled a wide grin.

"Great! Off we go, then!"

Author's Note: Hi everybody! I'm just getting back into Fanfiction and I really wanted to put more effort into my stories. This kind of came from an older story I had posted(and thankfully deleted) and I just wanted to make it better this time around. As always, reviews are welcome, and criticism is of course accepted.


	2. Chapter 2:Awkward

Connor rested his chin on his hand in annoyance as M'Gann tried to make some form of conversation. His elbow balanced on the wooden table inside the dimly lit Lorenzo's.

"So, what're you thinking of getting?" M'Gann began, trying to break the silence between them, "I was thinking of getting the chicken parmesan, but the portions are always so big here, so I might just get a salad..."

Connor stared at her for a moment, then his eyes glanced at the menu. He picked one of the two from the side of the table, and skimmed through it. He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Why not you choose?" he asked, "I've never been here before so I don't know what to get."

M'Gann blinked.

" _Oh Mars,"_ she thought, " _Oh Mars! Oh Mars!"_

She hid behind the menu, trying to think of a plan. Should she order a large dish for them to share? Or would that seem to forward of her? Perhaps she could get an appetizer, but then again she did not exactly have an unlimited budget. Her eyes squeezed shut.

" _Why is it that food can be so pivotal in a romantic relationship?"_ her thoughts were practically screaming, " _Not that this is a relationship yet, but still!"_

She slowly peeked over the menu, her eyes glowing orbs of excitement. In front of her, Connor gazed at her blankly. She noticed every aspect of him: The grey jacket that hung loosely from his shoulders that she had convinced him to put on back at the cave; the black t-shirt that lacked the 'S' insignia; his ebony hair and bright, blue eyes. His eyebrows furrowed, and a frown came over his face.

"Are you okay?" he demanded, as he was perplexed by M'Gann's odd behavior, "'Cause you're not making much sense."

"Oh, well, I'm just not sure what to get!" M'Gann stopped herself from nearly apologizing. She felt as if she was dripping in sweat from her own anxiety. Connor kept his detached front. He sighed.

"Why not we just get that chicken thing you were talking about? We can share it, I guess."

M'Gann wanted to faint. Her culinary romance techniques had officially worked, and she didn't even have to ask if they could share a meal.

"That's perfect!" she exclaimed, however she quieted down when she realized just how loud she truly had exclaimed, "I mean, um, we can definitely do that!"

"Yeah," Connor remarked, "If that idiot waiter ever comes 'round again..."

"There's no need to get upset, Connor. I'm sure it's just because the restaurant's busy."

Connor raised an eyebrow, looking around the nearly vacant establishment.

"Sure," he grumbled, crossing his arms, "He's _definitely_ busy."

"Alright," M'Gann relented, "So maybe the service here is kinda a bust. But I swear their food is to die for."

M'Gann gave a weak smile, trying to find some optimism in the situation. Connor averted his stare, and focused on the city light outside from a nearby window. The silent tension had taken over once more.

 _Good job on that one,_ M'Gann thought with disappointment, _Now he probably thinks you're a nervous wreck._

Connor pointed towards the window.

"The lights look...nice," he mentioned. M'Gann noticed a light blush across his cheeks.

"They sure are," M'Gann agreed. She paused for a moment and met Connor's eyes.

"Do you want to see them?" M'Gann asked. Connor's eyes widened inquisitively.

"What're we gonna get for dinner, though?" he questioned, "I thought you were set on this place."

"Well," M'Gann sighed, "I guess this place isn't that great after all. I mean, we're not even getting service. We can just pick up something on the way. A drive through's pretty quick, so maybe we can go there."

Connor stood up.

"Well, I guess we're ditching this place."

"I guess we are," M'Gann smiled as they walked out of the restaurant together. The pair strolled along the board walk of Happy Harbor, admiring the lights that shone brilliantly against the stars above. Connor himself seemed particularly invested, keeping his eyes glued to the lights ahead. M'Gann was just glad to see that he appeared, for the most part, happy.

"So," M'Gann said, "Do you usually go star gazing? Or, city gazing, I suppose?"

Connor was silent for a moment. His mind turning, trying to craft a response.

"No," he stated bluntly, "It's just..."

"It's just what?" M'Gann pried. She was more curious than ever. Although they had been friends for nearly six and a half months, she would have been the first to admit that she barely knew anything about the mysterious Superboy.

"It's just," Connor mumbled, then, with more confidence, "It's just that when I was at Kadmus, I was in a tube all my life. All I got was images of things." His head turned, staring into the city beyond.

"I never got to see things like this in the flesh. And even though I've seen it before on missions, I never really got the chance to just _look_ at the stuff."

M'Gann locked her arms behind her back. She looked at Connor, the boy she thought she knew.

"You know," she started, "That's a lot to say, coming from you."

In a split second, she wished she had taken her words back when she saw the scowl on Connor's face.

"So what?" he glared, "Do you just think that just 'cause I don't talk a lot means I'm some idiot, or something?"

"What are you talking about, Connor?" M'Gann stopped walking and faced Connor. She was beyond confused.

"You said 'That's a lot, coming from you,'" he raised his voice, "So did you think I was just some quiet clone? That I didn't think for myself?"

"No, Connor," M'Gann cried, "It's just you don't talk too much, is all. I was just a little surprised that you bothered talking to me like that."

"So do you not want me telling you things?" Connor clenched his fists.

"No! I'm just saying that I was surprised. I'm sorry, okay?" M'Gann looked down.

"I just..." she trailed off, "I was just a little confused is all. You didn't need to get upset!"

"So what if I get angry?" Connor yelled, "Aren't I allowed to do that? Can't I-"

" _Will you stop it?!_ " M'Gann screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her heart was racing. The night had just shifted from a decent start to a horrible end. Connor hands softened. He had never seen M'Gann cry, and had never expected that it would be because of him.

"I just wanted to do something fun," M'Gann huffed, "And the moment I say something that you find a little bit offensive, you just go off on me! Am I just supposed to walk on egg shells?"

Connor grimaced. He had really done it this time. His temper had gotten the better of him, and he exploded at the person he considered a close friend to the point where she was sobbing. He sighed, digging his hands into his pockets.

"I ruined it," he said aloud, regret apparent on his face, "I'm a complete idiot."

"What?" M'Gann sniffled. She was shaking. Connor repeated himself.

"I ruined it. I wrecked your night 'cause I was being a sensitive moron. And...I'm sorry that I did that..." He paused for a moment, trying to find what was the right thing to say. He started again, knowing what was needed for the situation.

"I'm sorry I was being a jerk."

M'Gann was speechless. Before, Connor would yell and then storm off. Never before had he actually apologized. Her eyes shifted to the ground. Connor reached out, and placed a wide hand across her cheek. She blinked in surprise. She shut her eyes as Connor moved his hand across her petite face and under her both her eyes.

"Um," he stammered, "You're face was a little wet."

"It's because I was crying," M'Gann said, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her knit jacket. For a moment, there was a quiet that filled the air, but it was not necessarily an awkward silence. This silence between them, it was a silence that settled, one that grew upon the pair. Connor closed his eyes, and for the first time, broke the silence that had began.

"When people cry, it's 'cause they're sad, right?"

M'Gann laughed softly at the young clone's question.

"Yeah," she smiled, a bittersweet feeling washing over her, "Thinking they're sad is usually a good guess."

And in that moment, time felt as if it had slowed to a crawl. Connor opened his arms in front of her. He held them up, just slightly below his chest, and wrapped them around M'Gann. He embraced her, holding her against his chest tightly. M'Gann's eyes widened in shock. She tried to look up, but all she ended up doing was rub her cheek against the cotton of his shirt.

"Um, Connor," she whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I'm hugging you."

"I can see that," M'Gann said, "But _why?"_

"Because I've heard that most people usually like being hugged when they're sad."

M'Gann laughed, her body quivering against Connor's. She wrapped her hands around him, squeezing him tightly. He looked down at her, a small smile across his face.

"You are crushing me," he stated.

"I know," M'Gann giggled, "It's because you're squeezing me to death."

"Sorry," Connor quickly released his death grip, "I'm kinda new to this."

"How can you be new to hugs?" M'Gann asked, a look of utter confusion on her face. She managed to look at Connor now that she wasn't pressed so tightly against him. He ran his fingers through her red hair. He spoke up.

"It's because this is my first one."

Mifune chewed on the toothpick stuck in between his teeth. He looked down at the city below his perch. Sitting on the tops of buildings had become such a bore for him. He stared below, seeing the two that Arachne was after. He quickly pulled out his cellphone and made a call. The receiver beeped several times. He waited, standing up from the edge of whatever building that had taken his fancy. He raised an eyebrow as he watched the pair below him. It seemed that they were embracing each other. With his other hand he grabbed a pair of binoculars to see more clearly. These two were most definitely his targets.

"Tch," he scoffed, "Love birds."

"Hello?" he heard Arachne through the receiver.

"Hey," he said, "I think I found the two you were looking for."

"Did you engage?"

"No." Mifune stuffed his binoculars back into his coat pocket.

"Good," Arachne cooed, "For now, just keep an eye on them. Attacking them wouldn't do much good, now would it?"

"No it wouldn't," Mifune replied. Arachne gave a coy laugh.

"You always were the quiet one, weren't you?" she exclaimed. Mifune shrugged.

"There's not much to talk about, really."

"Well," Arachne's voice echoed against the poor reception, "Just keep your eyes on them. If we're lucky, they might tell us more than we even needed. Call me if you get any more updates."

"Roger that," Mifune hung up the phone and sat down once more with his knees close to his chest, his feet hanging slightly over the edge. He squinted, seeing the pair begin to leave the board walk.

 _So,_ he thought to himself, _The Superboy and Martian are just some teens._

Mifune placed his hand on the handle of the katana in his waistband. He stared at the two as they walked off into the distance.

 _Not that it mattered anyway,_ he thought, _Soon enough, they'll tell me everything I need to know. And when that happens..._

 _Well, I just hope they know how to fight for their lives._


	3. Update

Hey guys, So this isn't a chapter but it is going to talk about updates so buckle up. I'm going to try and come back. I had tried to come back in 2015 but then felt discouraged and stopped altogether for a couple years. For me I've always felt unsatisfied with my work and thought that I constantly needed to redo works I have done. I've never really felt confident in my work and thought that doing fanfiction annihilated my creative integrity, but now I think it can be a fun past time again, so I'll try my best to not make too many people OOC this time. Also this story might be going in a lot of different places because I totally forgot about my plan for it? Anyways I'm going to come back to this work especially and I hope you guys enjoy it. Thanks, Jonesy 


	4. Chapter 3: In Deep

Chapter 3: Trying not to mess up?

Robin took orders most of the time. If Batman demanded a certain maneuver or tactic, Robin was the first to perform it succinctly. Tonight, however, was not most of the time. Sitting in his room, costume hung up and wearing fresh pajamas, he began to boot up his computer. When he and Batman had pulled up into the Bat Cave, he was immediately reprimanded before he could even begin to investigate.

"Don't look into this, I'll handle it." Batman had glared at his young protégé, whose interests in the case were already piqued. He nodded, fled to his room, and naturally proceeded to disobey.

When researching hitmen, Dick would dive into the dark web. The software he kept, Tor, made sure that he could observe the often thoroughly encrypted sites. He usually kept a reference of links stored on his computer, and as he pulled them up into a new window he pondered on which route he should follow. One link lead to illegal kidney transplants, another boasted a cannibal forum. The goal for now was to start small and, with enough clicks, reach the destination he wanted. He scrolled down the list and found a link that lead to a black market chatroom.

 _Good place to start,_ he thought, clicking the link and waiting for it to open. He logged in anonymously and typed in a pen name: _156_chen_. Already there were conversations discussing the drug trade.

 _quakek0te: does anyone know where to get 1kg of crack here?_

 _serkt12ai: intending to sell or just inhale the whole damn thing?_

 _O^ndcres : oh you know they're intending to inhale the whole of it_

 _156_chen: hey_

There was a bit of silence. Then a response.

 _serk12ai: hey what?_

 _quakek0te: hey focus on me I asked first_

 _O^ndcres : shut up no one cares about your drug habits. 156_chen?_

 _156_chen: there was a murder recently. The link's below. Any ideas on who did it? I'm interested._

He copied the link into his chat. Inside were JPEG's of pictures he discreetly took of the scene. He also may have forgot to have mention that there was a virus in it as well.

 _quakek0te: that doesn't sound sketchy at alllll_

 _serk12ai: it's a download link give us a screenshot I don't want a virus_

 _quakek0te: ^^^^^_

 _O^ndcres : agreed_

Dick frowned. He needed the information, though.

He sent the screenshots. One was of the bloodied wall and the other was a picture of the bodies. He waited.

 _O^ndcres_ : _huh_

 _quakek0te: BSSSSSS THAT'S SO FAKE. I should know I'm a coroner_

 _serk12ai: your not a coroner you're a drug addict_

 _quakek0te: I can dream tho, yeah?_

 _O^ndcres : shutup serk12ai. Chen why would you need to know who did it._

 _156_chen: I wanna hire them_

 _quakek0te:oh you've come to the wrong chat try somewhere else lol_

 _O^ndcres : yeah. Try here tho. They might know something._

A link popped up. It was to another chatroom. Dick's cursor loomed over the link and, for a brief moment, he felt an inkling of hesitation. If he proceeded not only would he be disobeying orders, but he would also be amongst some of the worst minds he could think of. His brow furrowed.

 _Click!_


End file.
